Silent Answer
by violet eyed soul
Summary: Death is a hard thing to bear.


Items in _italics_ are thoughts

Items in**_ Bold Italics_** are emphasized

Items between ( ) are actions, since asterisks aren't working** >X-(**

* * *

There he was.

At it again.

Wolf-wood could hear the sounds of weeping and retching in the next room.

It had been merely a day since the tall, red clad outlaw's apparently close friend had died.

(sigh)

Wolf-wood sat down on the bed; springs creaking, as he remembered.

Vash had been bent over the once strong form of a man; crying his eyes out. Wolf-wood was surprised Vash reacted the way he did. To him it seemed the thick, boorish guy genuinely hated Vash. And yet, there was Vash, crying over him as if losing a father figure.

It had been hell for Wolf-wood to watch.

He did a quick blessing;

crossing the scene in front of his eyes;

before turning away.

It was right then;

**_when Wolf-wood turned his back; _**

that Vash let out a tortured, ear-piercing, wail.

"HHHAAARR–"

(WHINE!)

Vash'es harsh vomiting tore Wolf-wood from his reverie.

The wanderer cringed. He truly felt sorry for the blonde haired outlaw.

_' I wish there was somethin' I could do for him.'_

The hardened priest was never good with showing emotion; he'd never been taught how to show he cared. So now he was left to brood over the best way to help his friend.

"HAKK-"

(whine!)

Wolf-woodlifted his head from the bed he was lying on, and puzzled over what to do. It sounded to the priest that his spiky haired partner was losing his internal organs.

The thin, dusty preacher slowly lifted himself from the bed and crossed the room.

He stood; debating between opening the door, or allowing Vash his privacy.

"GGOOUU–"

_'Ick!'_ Wolf-wood grimaced. It seemed that it was nearing the peak. The thin man let his head drop against the door jam, deciding, not to decide.

(sigh)

He knew how Vash felt. He almost envied him; wishing his own body would express the deep, pent-up sorrow, and rage the way his friends body did.

He wasn't allowed that though.

It seemed he was "blessed" with the ability to repress; his only outlet, and release, smoking. Wolf-wood squeezed his eyes tight. He now could go through nearly anything without feeling. Merely smoking to relieve the inevitable tension.

He thought this to be healthy; the way you were supposed to be, the way things worked.

Till he ran into Vash.

It had rattled him;

deeply;

seeing another man rather openly cry.

He had never met anyone like that.

Hoped he never would again.

It made Wolf-wood feel degenerate,

in human;

downright **_evil_**.

(**_ shudder_** )

In all reality Wolf-wood wanted to be normal again;

human again.

He wanted to be able to feel again.

( sigh )

Once he decided to stuff something it just seemed to fade.

Causing him to go numb.

Nearly lifeless.

Till it popped up again. Usually as realizations, or unwanted, sudden memories.

(HAUGH!)

"WHINE!"

It seemed Vash was experiencing, something like that now

(sigh)

Wolf-wood turned, letting his head lightly hit the door.

(KKCCRREEeee–)

to his shock it opened.

Wolf-wood took a step back as the door swung wide, exposing a pale, shadow of his friend.

Vash hung like a wilted flower, over the tub;

his clothes,

now a mess,

hung from him.

A deep pang of sadness and pity hit Wolf-wood, it pulled at him to enter further.

"You okay?" he was shocked at the sound of his own voice; sounding on the verge of tears himself.

The now frail looking outlaw just held his head, shaking like a leaf.

Wolf-wood walked over, placing an unsteady hand on Vash'es back.

Vash folded his arms and put his head down; apparently done with vomiting. He shook as Wolf-wood; bereft of all thought; rubbed his back.

Vash wept; tears rolling down the side of the tub.

**. . .  
. . .  
. . .**

" is God real?"

Wolf-wood tensed;

struck by the question.

His automatic reaction would be to respond yes. If this were anyone else he'd answer in the affirmative; relying on what he'd been taught.

But this was a different situation entirely. This was his close friend, someone he didn't **_want_** to deceive; even for the sake of making him feel better.

So Wolf-wood did the only thing he could do;

tell the truth.

"I don't know."

Wolf-wood slowed his hand; suddenly feeling very unworthy.

"Have you ever felt him?"

"no."

"that's what I get from everyone." Vash turned away.

**. . .  
**

Wolf-wood stood, feeling decidedly dirty again.

Vash had a way of doing that. Making him feel extremely degenerate;

at the worst moments too.

For the second time in 48 hours, Wolf-wood turned his back on his friend;

leaving him in silence.


End file.
